They headed towards the bay. It wasn't Peyton's choice, but she didn't want to make it seem like she was afraid of the water. Even if she was, maybe just a little. Or at least as long as she had no answers about the mysterious girl who, for all she knew, might still be out there.
"Have you met anybody else since you moved here?" Lily asked.
"Yeah, a guy named Bryant. He's our caretaker's son."
"I don't think I've met him. Is he cute?"
"Most definitely!" Peyton confirmed with more than a touch of proprietary interest.
Lily seemed to read between the lines. "Well, maybe he's got a cute friend he can introduce me to."
Peyton smiled. Bryant hadn't talked much about his friends, other than an ex-girlfriend. Still, she guessed that he knew guys who would probably like Lily. So long as it wasn't him, she thought, already acting like a jealous girlfriend.
They stood at the edge of the bay, studying the view as though a work of art.
"Do you like to swim?" Lily asked.
"Yes." Peyton felt a chill run through her in thinking about her last swim. She wondered if that girl could somehow still be alive. Or had the whole thing been some kind of a sick joke?
"Maybe we can go swimming together sometime?"
Peyton shuddered at the idea of going back into that water anytime soon. Having a swimming partner might lessen her unease.
She smiled. "Sounds good to me."
"Cool."
Peyton wasn't sure just how cool it was. Could be there was more to the bay than met the eye.
* * *
That evening Vance assembled Melody and Peyton to the study for what he called a family meeting. This surprised Peyton, as she had rarely been included in discussions since her mother married Vance. Even the move to Shadow Bay had been decided without her consent or input.
Peyton found her mother and stepfather seated on the couch in front of a floor to ceiling bookcase that looked like it had been around forever. She noted a carafe on the table, along with two half-filled glasses.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Cognac," Vance said matter-of-factly.
Peyton raised a brow. She had not known her mother to drink alcohol, other than the one time she had champagne with Peyton's father to celebrate a promotion and increase in salary. Vance did drink, but usually beer. Why the change?
Peyton's eyes narrowed at her mother. "Did you decide to start drinking about the same time you took up smoking?" she asked boldly.
"Don't be rude, young lady!" Melody snapped. "I didn't realize I had to answer to you or justify what I do."
Peyton shrugged. "Whatever. It's your life and health. I'm just your daughter trying to look out for you. Sorry if that upsets you."
"I don't appreciate your tone, Peyton," Vance said harshly. "Your mother's a grown woman and more than capable of looking out for herself. If that fails, she's got me."
"Whatever," she muttered again, suddenly feeling like an outsider.
"Anyway, I called you in here to talk about some other things," her stepfather said.
"What things?" Peyton looked at her mother. Melody's face was impassive.
"Have a seat," Vance instructed.
Though reluctant, Peyton sat in a swivel chair. She was a little tense about what he might have to say.
After tasting his drink, her stepfather said, "Now that we've gotten settled into our new place, your mother and I think it's a good idea to establish some new ground rules for you."
Peyton sneered. "What kind of ground rules?"
"Nothing earth shattering, honey," Melody said and abruptly stopped talking like tape had been placed over her lips.
"From now on, we'd like to know where you are pretty much at all times." Vance leaned forward.
Peyton rolled her eyes. "So I'm supposed to report my every move to you now?"
"No, not everything you do, but we don't want to worry that you're out there doing something you shouldn't," he said.
"You mean like smoking and drinking?" She glared at her mother.
"I mean like anything out of bounds for a sixteen-year-old, young lady!" Vance declared.
Peyton sighed. "Why is he doing this, Mom? I haven't done anything wrong."
"I know, honey," she said meekly. "Vance just wants to make sure you're safe in this new community."
"Well it sounds more like he's trying to take the place of my real dad--only in a much more controlling way."
"Your father's no longer here," Vance asserted. "I'm the only father figure you've got. The sooner you accept that, the better it'll be for all of us."
"It won't be better for me," Peyton scoffed. "Not if you plan to take away my freedom."
"No one's taking away anyone's freedom," he stressed.
"Sounds like it to me." She crossed her arms with a petulant pout.
"This isn't a prison, Peyton, and I'm not a warden. But I am the head of this household and I don't want to see you get into trouble because of neglect or nonchalance on our part."
"Whatever." She decided there was no point further protesting right now, especially since her mother seemed reluctant to go against him. Is this the way it's going to be from now on? "May I be excused?"
"Yes, you may. I think we're done here." Vance lifted his glass.
Peyton sprang up. She gazed at her mother, but only got a vacant look in return.
"Oh, there is one other thing..." her stepfather said before Peyton could leave. "I'll need your phone--"
"What--?" Peyton's nostrils flared.
"You heard me. We think it's best to restrict the use of your phone calls and texting right now."
"Is this a joke?" All Peyton could think about was not being able to video talk or text Erica whenever she needed to get things off her chest--like right now.
Vance's brows stitched together. "Do I look like I'm joking? We need more discipline in this house. Taking away your phone is a good place to start. Besides, you need to forget about the life you had in San Diego. Phoning and texting your friends there--especially Erica--24/7 will only make breaking away that much harder. This is where you belong now. Get used to it."
I can't believe I'm hearing this. "I don't belong here!" Peyton argued. "Tell him, Mom. Our home will always be San Diego, where dad's buried, no matter where we live!"
"Yes, of course it will be," Melody said unevenly. "And no one is asking you to abandon your friends forever. But you're making new friends here now, starting with Lily, and you have a new place to call home. You need to give Shadow Bay a chance to work out."
"I thought I was doing that," Peyton said. "Besides, I need my phone to communicate with Lily or anyone else I meet here." Not to mention Bry.
"No, you only think you do," Vance said tersely. "Let's give communicating the old fashioned way a try--by getting out there and speaking face to face with your new friends."
Peyton was furious. "This is so unfair."
"Life isn't always fair," he told her. "It's all for your own good."
"None of this is good for me," she countered. "I shouldn't have to sacrifice any more than I already have by moving to this stupid town with your stupid new rules!"
She scowled at her mother and threw her phone on the floor. Holding back tears, Peyton ran from the room.
Lying on her bed, Peyton wept. What was happening in her life? Things had suddenly gone from bad to worse, except where it concerned Bryant. She wondered what curves her mother and stepfather would toss her way next.
* * *
Caitlyn watched Peyton cry herself to sleep. She empathized with her, having done the same thing more times than Caitlyn cared to count. Unfortunately she knew things would only get worse before it was over. There was enough evil in this house to go around and its poison would affect everyone in both the spirit and human world. The one hope Caitlyn had was that together she and Peyton could overcome the force of darkness. But it wouldn't be easy, for one man was just as determined to see history repeat itself aga
in and again.
This thought unnerved Caitlyn and she grew disillusioned. She tried to be brave for the challenges that lay ahead.
Caitlyn watched as Peyton stirred restlessly. She prayed that her father wouldn't come for her. Not till it was too late.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The rain came down in torrents, drenching Peyton as she stood outside in her nightgown. With the rumble of thunder, a bolt of lightning bathed the house, giving it an eerie whitish glow. Instinctively, she began to move her bare feet toward the house.
Inside she could hear the commotion coming from upstairs. It was obvious to Peyton that a verbal fight was underway. And just as clear that it was up to her to intervene.
She climbed the stairs, dreading every step of the way for fear of what awaited.
The closer she came to her parents' bedroom, the more petrified Peyton became, as though having been down this path before. She heard a strong male voice doing most of the talking with other voices in the background.
Pushing the door open, Peyton stepped in.
There was a man at the foot of the bed, his face contorted with fury. He was holding a shotgun that was pointed at another man who was standing and only half-clothed.
He pulled the trigger and the man went flying, landing on the floor with a thud.
Peyton put a hand to her mouth and gazed almost hypnotically toward the bed. A woman was lying there, partially blanketed. Her eyes were filled with consternation.
Looking back at the man with the shotgun, Peyton watched as he pointed it at the woman.
He's going to shoot her, too. I have to try and stop him.
As Peyton assessed what she could do to stop this tragedy from occurring amongst these strangers, she heard another sound and turned to see a girl run into the room past her. She was about Peyton's age and looked strangely familiar. She wore a long nightgown not unlike the one Peyton had on, though it somehow looked more dated to her.
Peyton watched as the girl ran up to the man with the shotgun. Grabbing the barrel, she screamed at him, "No, Daddy, don't!"
The man tried to shake the gun barrel from her as though she were nothing more than a gnat, his dark eyes slits.
"Get out of the way!" he ordered.
"No, I won't, Daddy!" The girl spoke defiantly. "Don't hurt Mama!"
He dismissed her words and tried harder to wrest the gun from her grasp. But the girl showed surprising strength and would not relinquish her grip on the barrel easily nor her determination to avert further bloodshed.
Peyton shook as the man, in his attempt to gain control of the shotgun, pulled the trigger. The girl backed away in anguish, clutching the gaping wound in her stomach. Her eyes were filled with hatred for the man she called Daddy.
He glared at Peyton before turning to the girl's mother. Lifting the shotgun, he aimed at the woman. As she let out a piercing scream, Peyton knew it was up to her to do something. But what?
She sucked in a deep breath and hurled herself at the man in desperation, but not before a shot went off...
* * *
Peyton awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding. She'd just had the same terrifying dream, but with an added twist. This time a girl had joined the people in the bedroom. It was the same girl Peyton had seen in the bay.
The girl who had pulled Peyton under the water and tried to drown her.
Am I losing my mind? Who are these people anyway? Why am I dreaming about them? Does it mean anything that the girl from the bay has somehow gotten into my dreams?
Peyton was at a loss. For all she knew, the whole thing was just some cruel twist of her subconscious brought on by moving to Shadow Bay, which she hadn't been crazy about.
Or perhaps her stepfather suddenly becoming a control freak had instigated the latest dream.
But what if there was something more to it? Maybe evil spirits really did haunt this creepy old house.
Peyton wanted so badly to march to her parents' room and tell them about the nightmare. But how could she? Not after claiming to see the girl in the bay that no one could corroborate. They would think she was crazy for sure and probably force her to see a psychiatrist.
Not that Peyton would have blamed them, all things considered.
Telling Bryant was also out of the question. The last thing she needed was to scare him into thinking she was mentally unbalanced. And, therefore, not girlfriend material.
Peyton decided she would defy her newly self-appointed slave-master-stepfather and sneak in a call to Erica. She could talk to her about anything, even if it sounded off the wall to everyone else.
She snuck downstairs and grabbed her phone from a cabinet in the study where Peyton had discovered Vance had put it.
Though she feared incurring Vance's wrath by blatantly disregarding his order not to use the phone to contact her friends from San Diego, Peyton could not keep this to herself. She started to text Erica, but aborted it, feeling the urge to have some FaceTime with her best friend to share her terrifying ordeal. They would just have to keep their voices down.
Erica popped on the screen and yawned. "Do you know what time it is?"
Peyton knew there was a two-hour time difference between Minnesota and California. Not that it had ever stopped them before from texting or talking at all hours of the night.
"Sorry, but this was the best time to talk," Peyton said apologetically. "Vance has gotten all weird and doesn't want me to use my phone to talk to you."
Erica raised her brow. "You're kidding, right?"
"I wish." Peyton lowered her voice. "I don't know what his problem is. Maybe it has something to do with this house. I just had a very scary dream..."
"Really? What happened?"
Peyton recounted the nightmare in detail. "That girl from the bay was in the dream," she said fretfully. "And she was shot by her father...who also shot another man and then her mother--"
"Hey, slow down." Erica frowned. "You're starting to worry me."
"You can't be any more worried than I am. Something just doesn't seem right about this."
"Yeah, I agree. You know, I read once that violent dreams can sometimes be an omen of things to come."
Peyton tensed. "Or maybe things that already happened. Everyone in the dream wore outdated clothing. Even the furniture in the house looked like something you'd see in an antique store."
"So you're saying this girl you thought was alive is really dead and haunting you from a past life?"
Peyton thought about it. "I'm not sure. But I think whatever is going on has to do with her...and this house--"
Am I really saying that the house is possessed by dead people? If so, what do they want with me?
"So what do you plan to do about it?" Erica sounded more than a little curious.
"I have no idea," Peyton admitted shakily. "I can't exactly tell my mother and stepdad. They'd probably lock me up for sure if I added this on top of seeing the girl in the bay."
"Maybe you should quit while you're ahead and come back to San Diego. Let someone else play ghost buster!"
"Yeah, if only." Peyton rolled her eyes, thinking that running away was not an option. Not yet anyway. "For all I know, the whole thing is in my head. I suppose I'll have to see it through, for better or worse."
"If you say so." Erica paused. "So, what's going on with the caretaker's cute son?"
Peyton smiled dreamily. "We're still cool. Bry hasn't exactly asked me out or anything, but I'm pretty sure he likes me."
"Well that's something. And since you obviously feel the same way about him, maybe he can help you get to the bottom of this--"
"Maybe." Peyton kept an open mind where Bryant was concerned. Would he keep an open mind where it concerned her? "Oh, by the way, I also met a girl here."
"A living, breathing one, I hope?"
"That's so not funny." Peyton stuck her tongue out. "She's alive just like you and me."
"Sorry, I had to ask." Erica giggled. "So you've already replaced your best friend?"<
br />
Peyton chuckled, knowing she was just teasing. "That'll never happen, Erica. Besides, Lily is only here for the summer."
"Good!" Erica said with satisfaction.
When Peyton heard a noise outside the room, she suspected it could be Vance so she cut the call short. "Gotta go," she whispered. "Talk to you later." She disconnected.
Peyton looked up as her stepdad walked into the study. He frowned. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"Couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come down and read a little." Peyton flipped a page from the book she'd taken off the shelf. "Or am I not allowed to do that either?"
He stared at her. "Thought I heard you talking?"
"Obviously not. Unless you think I'm chatting up a storm with a ghost?"
Vance looked toward the cabinet and Peyton was sure he was on to her taking the cell phone. He turned back to her, grinning sideways. "I don't believe in ghosts."
She wrinkled her nose. "Didn't think so."
"Don't stay up too long."
"I don't intend to," she responded, feeling she had dodged a bullet in going against his orders."
Peyton waited till Vance left, then grabbed the cell phone she'd stuck behind her in the chair and put it back in the cabinet. Feeling courageous, she planned to use the phone more often, figuring it was her right even if he felt otherwise.
By the time she went back to bed, Peyton was actually afraid to go to sleep. What if she had the dream again--twice in one night?
A chill suddenly came over Peyton as though she were being watched. How silly is that? There's no one here. Or so she tried to keep telling herself.
Soon her eyes began to carry a load and Peyton drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Caitlyn appeared as Peyton sank into a deep sleep. I'm sorry you're so troubled, Peyton. I wish I could make the dreams go away. But I can't--not yet. Our spirits are linked by time and this house. One cannot be at peace till the other is.
She gazed down at Peyton a bit longer before drifting towards the window. The moon was full, eerily lighting the night. Caitlyn admired the beauty so many people took for granted. If only she could touch and taste that which she could no longer feel. Perhaps someday. Some way. Soon.
Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery Page 4